


You Say Take It Off

by UniverseOnHerShoulders



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bi!Clara, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 12:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5785675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniverseOnHerShoulders/pseuds/UniverseOnHerShoulders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is the Doctor's companion. That is, his current travelling assistant."</p><p>River Song recognises Clara Oswald, but Clara Oswald doesn't recognise her. Then again, their first encounter was in a lap dancing club light years in the future, and River is quite, quite sure that respectable little Clara, clad in her demure dress and sipping tea, wouldn't want her bringing up any of her more R-rated talents...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Say Take It Off

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially complete and total smut, partially inspired by [ConnecticutJunkie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ConnecticutJunkie/pseuds/ConnecticutJunkie)'s wonderful work [Bespoke](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5351942/chapters/12359426), which suggests that Clara may have been a lap dancer. I figured it needed exploring, and while I'm playing around with Clara and her echoes for another fic, this came about quite incidentally.
> 
> Set prior to and during The Name of the Doctor and *that* conference call.
> 
> Title from Lana Del Rey's song "Mermaid Motel," which I heartily recommend listening to as you read this.

Professor River Song was not entirely sure how she’d ended up in this down-at-heel club in the fifty-third century, nursing a pint of something blue and radioactive-looking while staring passively at the most recent addition to the dingy atmosphere: a girl, twirling round a pole with a bored expression on the narrow stage, gyrating half-heartedly to the latest space-pop hit and occasionally removing an article of clothing in a profoundly unsexy way. River sighed, running over the night’s events again mentally: the longing for a drink, an easy escape from Stormcage, the initial, upmarket bar with a companion who bought her a succession of luridly coloured cocktails, and then the suggestion to come to this… well. Calling it a dive would be generous. She looked around at the faded décor, taking in the broken lights, the cracked seats and the dark and unsavoury booths, girls lurking around them in stages of undress as they tried to catch the attention of the clients within. Her date had left with a tall blonde an hour ago, leaving her here sulking quietly and contemplating her return to her cell with a sense of resignation.

The song finished and she downed the last of her drink, keen to leave in search of a final, better venue, when she heard a dimly familiar track start to play, her head snapping up to take in the girl who had just stepped onstage.

Despite her heels, the girl was still petite, although her legs seemed to go on forever, clad in sheer stockings that contrasted sharply with the cheap nylons of the previous dancers, the creamy skin of her thighs exposed by her suspenders, and as River watched she turned teasingly, revealing the soft curve of her arse, clad in ruffled French knickers of duck-egg blue. River’s eyes travelled upwards, taking in a corset that flared at her hips, contouring softly upwards to meet a half-cup bra that barely contained a voluptuous chest, framed by the loose waves of the girl’s dark hair, watching as the girl tossed her head back and smiled sexily, beginning to rock her hips in a way that River found entrancing. She swallowed with some difficulty, pushing her way closer to the stage and sinking into one of the seats she had previously dismissed as unsanitary, wishing she had a drink to occupy her hands with. The girl’s eyes met hers, sparkling hazel orbs that were filled with the kind of life that suggested she hadn’t been working here long enough to grow disillusioned, and she winked at River, unlacing her corset slowly with nimble fingers and casting it aside in time to the music, running one hand up the cool chrome of the pole and twirling around it once, tantalisingly, before pulling away slowly.

She hooked a leg around the pole, leaning away with what River could tell was a giggle, spinning slowly before properly beginning her dance, her hips rocking against the pole in a way that River was sure was outlawed in at least six galaxies. Her eyes enticed punters in as she moved rhythmically, lyrically, in time to the slow beat of the song, her lips full and pouting as she worked the floor, ending in an impossible pose before gathering up the proffered cash tips and tucking them into her bra, blowing a kiss and disappearing backstage. River realised she had subconsciously been holding her breath and she let it out slowly, wondering whether it was worth her time to stick around or not. The girl had been so alluringly electric, her sexuality filling the room with energy and pooling desire in River’s stomach, and so she chose, selfishly, to stay, going to the bar to distract herself, ordering another drink before retreating to the darkness of a booth to ponder the situation.

She was halfway into the tumbler of unknown spirits when she sensed a presence and looked up, feeling her breath hitch as she took in the spectacular girl from the stage at close range, her expression radiant, the lingerie looking much closer to TARDIS blue away from the glare of the stage lights. 

“This seat taken?” she asked in a playful tone, and River swallowed, trying to compose her thoughts enough to respond fittingly.

“N… no…” she stammered, cursing her sudden lack of coherency, and the girl slipped onto the curved couch and pressed against her side, walking a hand up River’s leg slowly and seductively, stopping just shy of the hem of her skirt.

“Well,” the girl purred, leaning in to permit River a covert glance down her bra. “I’m not too sure about this seat… I think I see one I prefer…”

Before River could protest, the girl was straddling her lap, just three dangerously thin layers separating them as she began to grind her hips against River’s, the friction hitching her skirt up until she could feel the satin of the French knickers brushing her thighs. The girl smiled down at her seductively, her breath warm on River’s cheek as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders and bit her lip teasingly, enjoying her control over the older woman.

“You’re so hot…” the dancer murmured, tilting her head to one side and surveying River with a _fuck me_ look, reaching back to undo her bra and casting it aside carefully, her full breasts pressing against River’s shirt deliciously temptingly, and it was then that River lost the last few degrees of self-control she possessed, reaching a hand up to cup one, only to find her wrist gripped by the girl’s small hand. “No touching,” she said firmly, the grinding giving way to a soft, gyrating motion that clouded River’s mind with lust and made it difficult to concentrate, but she forced herself to try and think of a witty retort, failing completely.

“You’re touching me, that doesn’t seem fair…” she protested weakly, cursing her lack of eloquence, but the dancer only laughed. 

“Oh baby…” she murmured. “That’s because you’re sexy, and I like playing games. I don’t make the rules, though, so be a _very… good… girl…”_ As she spoke she slid a hand up River’s thigh, hooking her skirt a little higher, and she pressed her palm between them as she began to rock softly, her arousal only furthering River’s.

River leaned up to whisper in her ear, letting her breath caress the girl’s throat as she employed her most seductive tone: “You’re still a little overdressed…”

“These don’t come off for anything,” the girl murmured, looking down at River with wide, innocent eyes. “I don’t go _all the way_.”

“Oh?” River growled in what she hoped was a sexy way, pouting and using the smouldering look she had utilised to devastating effect with the Doctor. “That’s a shame…”

The girl’s lips met the edge of her own, pushing her past the limits of her control, and she slid a hand up the girl’s thigh, yearning, coming to her senses only when she felt strong arms encircling hers, dragging her away from the dancer and towards the door, evicting her into the cold night air. She sighed in frustration, wondering if she could talk her guard into a quick pity fuck for some relief as she leant against a wall a few doors down, lighting a thin cigarette and closing her eyes as she inhaled, trying to re-envisage the girl’s smirk as she teased her, groaning softly at the memory.

“Miss me?” came a soft voice, and she snapped her eyes open to take in the girl, clad now in a trench coat and a pair of heels. “I just knocked off, you busy?”

“I…” River barely had time to process what was happening before the girl was kissing her, hard, and she was kissing her back, pushing her against the wall and undoing the coat, noting with a smirk of approval that she was still only wearing her stockings and knickers underneath, one hand running up to cup her breast as her lips turned to the girl’s jaw, flicking her tongue over her pulse point and making her moan.

“I think…” the girl managed, her head rolling back in ecstasy as her hips arched up to meet River’s. “We should… back… mine…”

“I concur,” River bit down on the girl’s neck, sucking softly and eliciting another moan in response, letting the other girl lead her by the hand to a taxi, wrapping her coat around her in an attempt to maintain her decency as they kissed in the back seat, before stumbling up the stairs of a shabby apartment block, casting clothes aside once they passed the front door. They never even made it to the bed, River instead pushing the girl onto the sofa and kissing her quiet, kissing her until she moaned, moving on top of her and letting her actions do the talking.

 

~/~/~/~

 

“Ah. Perhaps you two haven't met. This is the Doctor's companion. That is, his current travelling assistant.” Vastra explained simply, and River looked to Clara with a shock of recognition: the dark hair, the hazel eyes, and beneath the checked dress, she was sure, the same tits she had enjoyed kissing so voraciously that long-ago night. She fought to keep her hand steady as she sipped her champagne, maintaining a neutral expression as she looked at the girl more closely, wondering whether she would be up for a second encounter.

Clara looked at her with no hint of recognition, and River remembered the enduring pattern of her life with a sense of bitterness: events happening out of order. She groaned inwardly, resigning herself to unavoidable sexual frustration.

“Assistant?” the girl asked with mild irritation, her accent distinctly different, and River narrowed her eyes the smallest amount as she considered the conundrum that this companion posed.

“Have you gone a darker green?” Strax asked, and Vastra looked away awkwardly.

“Clara Oswald,” the Silurian said, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, and not for the first time, River cursed herself for never getting the dancer’s name.

“Professor River Song,” she managed, affixing Clara with a winning smile. “The Doctor might have mentioned me?” _You might remember fucking me,_ she added silently, watching a small degree of realisation dawn on Clara’s face.

“Oh yeah. Oh yeah, of course he has. Professor Song. Sorry, it’s just I never realised you were a woman.” Clara smiled at her then and it was the same smile, it was the same _damn_ smile, and she felt her stomach twist itself into knots as she contemplated Clara _,_ wondering how it could be that the Doctor had come to meet this _companion_.

She tried to silence the voice in her head, but it grew increasingly loud as she sipped her champagne.

_I wonder if he’ll mind sharing…_


End file.
